And It All Started With Manolo Blahnik
by Suburban Teen
Summary: Summary typed within story. Open to find out.


TITLE: . And It All Started with Manolo Blahnik  
  
AUTHOR: Suburban Teen  
  
RATING: R [ Not right away but eventually. ]  
  
PAIRING NOTICE: None thus far, but soon it will turn out to be Charlotte/? [ Hehehe. ]  
  
FEEDBACK: Oh God YES! What do you think I sit here and spend my time writing so I can keep my own opinion only? Please! I LIVE FOR FEEDBACK! Any kind! Even if it sucks. JUST TELL ME!  
  
SUMMARY: Charlotte York, no longer MacDougal according to her mailbox ;D, is attempting to start her life over after divorce. Wide-eyed and ready to greet the world with open arms, Charlotte knows she is ready for any experience life throws her way. Or. at least she thinks she knows. [ SLASH WARNING! ]  
  
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters. All names and such belong to Darren Starr, Michael Patrick King, HBO and so on and so forth. All sites belong to the fantabulous New York City.  
  
TIMELINE: Picks up after "Anchors Away" and divulges into its own little universe.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is simply part one. Don't let the correspondence of the title and the last sentence fool you. I have a lot in store for our quartet.  
  
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"No, Charlotte. All I'm trying to say is that it's just a little bit frightening," there was a fraction of said fright melded within the dulcet tone of that blonde columnist's voice.  
  
"Frightening? What? Me? How could. why is there fright going on here?" Charlotte York questioned rather stumblingly. For the life of her she couldn't exactly grasp what about her could manage to frighten her closest friend.  
  
"You. Sailor man. Boob," Carrie's voice stated rather flatly, although her index finger emphasized her fragmented sentences whilst it jabbed first in the direction of the brunette's face then at the tasteful pale blue sweater that adorned her friend's torso.  
  
There was a slow flush that creeped upon the pretty features of that thirtysomething art dealer. She averted that dark chocolate gaze to the New York sidewalk beneath them, hoping to just disappear right then and there. So perhaps she hadn't been in her exact right mind the previous night at that navy party; but then again it wasn't like she had intended for her best friend to witness her little pseudo peep show. Still, it hadn't been the worst experience of her life, and that was saying something. After a moment or two, she turned her attention upward. "Look. I'm sorry, but it's not like I was expecting you to just stroll upon the scene. I did it because I wanted to."  
  
"I know. And that's good. It shows how much you've gro. Oh. Oh my God!"  
  
Charlotte, who had been rather preoccupied at the moment with a studly suited man, continued to walk along the sidewalk, dutifully avoiding an elderly looking woman wielding groceries. She continued on for a few more paces until she realized that she was no longer within the vicinity of her fashion-minded companion. Those slender brows drew together, adding to the altogether adorableness of the patented "confused Charlotte" face. She turned to her right and then left, all the while attempting to scan the sidewalk for any traces of that sex/fashion journalist.  
  
"Carrie?" The woman's name expelled past Charlotte's peach-painted tiers; the upscale romantic turned and began to retrace her steps. She passed the same grocery-bearing geriatric woman who was still busy trying to signal down a cab. "Carrie?!" Again the name was repeated in hopes that maybe the more she retraced, the closer she would become to her friend.  
  
As the minutes passed, there began to crawl along Charlotte's spine the beginnings of worry. It wasn't like Carrie to just suddenly disappear on the sidewalk. Those heels clicked against the cement as she trekked on, not at all liking the way this was making her feel. Those steps became more hurried and one arm rose to have fingers close around the strap of her purse. She was about to just scream when she happened upon a rather amusing scene.  
  
There was Carrie Bradshaw, in all her ill-spending-money-ways glory, practically drooling along the plait glass window of some high fashion boutique. That formerly anxious expression dwindled away from those attractive features, lines and creases disappearing from her forehead. Releasing a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, Charlotte approached the dreamy blonde. Raising a hand to tap her companion's shoulder, she called out, "You scared me to death."  
  
Carrie seemed to be lured from her trance-like state for a moment or two, distracted by the still worried tone in her friend's voice. Slowly she turned, focusing those expressive eyes upon the brunette, a somewhat glassy quality to them. "Hmm.? What happened?"  
  
Charlotte very easily slipped into an expression that conveyed her exact mixture of scolding and amusement. Carrie found it rather endearing and couldn't help but crack a wide grin back at her friend, though she still had no idea what had happened. Rolling those dark eyes, Charlotte stepped forward, effortlessly slipping her arm through the blonde's as she turned her attention to whatever had distracted Carrie so. Somehow it just didn't surprise her that there in the display window was a pair of Manolo Blahnik heels. A little to edgy for her tastes, but when it came to footwear ( expensive footwear, at that ) Carrie was no holds barred.  
  
Carrie noticed the 'I should have known' look on Charlotte's countenance and quickly jumped in to defend her choice. Lord only knew. she had to have had a good $40,000 worth of shoes in her closet, and by the look on the brunette's face, Carrie knew that the art dealer was going to object her spending anymore of it. "No! See. this is." She paused to search for the words to use because quite frankly she knew mumbling 'I've got to have it' like an incoherent idiot wasn't going to win Charlotte over, "Vogue spread. in May. I knew they were made for me then and I know it now." That hand rose to have fingernails lightly trace down the glass.  
  
Not appearing to be very convinced, Charlotte now wore that expression. the one Carrie always thought of as the kindergarten teacher scolding a student look. That blonde head dropped forward for a moment under the scrutiny of Charlotte's unneeded stare down. She remained this way for a few long moments until she decided something. Lifting that gaze to meet her friend's, the journalist spoke rather solidly, "I want those shoes. I will have those shoes. I will."  
  
During the beginning of this no doubt full on Carrie temper tantrum, the art dealer had been paying diligent attention, that brunette head nodding at each spoken sentence, in some sort of rhythm. However those slender brows came together once more, lines creasing her forehead as the rant suddenly abated. Confused at this change of pace, Charlotte took note of how Carrie's face had dropped forward so that she was gazing down into the minutely small Fendi purse she was carrying. Charlotte followed that path, urging the blonde to finish her statement, "You will?"  
  
"Require more for the 'Carrie Bradshaw Shoe-holic Fund'," the response came with a rueful tone as that head continued to hang dejectedly.  
  
Those peach-tinted tiers moved in to form a pout as that free arm rose so that she could rub Carrie's bare back comfortingly. Charlotte dropped her head forward, hoping to catch a glimpse of what would no doubt be a very mournful expression on her friend's face. "Aww. c'mon Carrie. What do you say we go for some Chinese? My treat."  
  
After a long moment, Carrie lifted her hear, the beginnings of a smile appearing upon her features as she turned and looked to her friend. There was a soft nod coming from the columnist, "Sounds good."  
  
And with that, the two friends began down the sidewalk in hopes of some wondrous Asian cuisine. Carrie was still a bit bummed about those shoes, although the more she thought about it, the more glad she became that she didn't have to wallow in her own little pity party alone. With that thought, the smile became full-fledged and that blonde visage gave a starboard cant so that her head was lying gently against the side of Charlotte's brunette locks. They continued on their trek this way, Charlotte all along knowing that it was a rather silly situation. and its cause was no doubt Manolo Blahnik. 


End file.
